Keys, Tears, and the Love of Teachers

Keys, Tears, and the Love of Teachers

 

Strange title, right?  I have discovered that when I send several entries on the same day, they end up double posting on this blog.  So I am including several items in this one entry.  The title is to capture your interest and also to help me know where certain stories are located.  (A sign of my computer illiteracy that I have to do it this way.)

 

We have 2 keys for the lock for the door of the office at school.  Then the locks to the various doors of the classrooms are in the office.  Yesterday I left school early for several meetings.  I forgot my keys on the desk.  So when Brenda locked up (she locks the lock on the grill door, then throws the key into the office, then pulls the wooden door shut) she threw the key back into the office.  When we arrived at school we had no key.  I took a broom from the house hoping that I could fish the key out.  Didn't work!  So when the children came to pump water, Exildah said,"I can climb through the grill door at the Community Center.  Maybe I can here."  She tested to see if she could get her head through.  The openings are small on the school grill/security door. She could get her head through but I wasn't sure that the rest of her body would make it since she has grown so much.  The suggestion was that Gift small give it a try.  He lived up to his name.  He got his head through and his body followed.  He handed me my keys off of the desk and we were able to get in!   As Benedict said, we don't want to encourage him too much in that kind of activity – kind of like breaking and entering.  If you saw the opening he went through, you would probably be surprised that he made it!

 

The grade 7 students (3 girls and 3 boys) are doing lots of extra school work to prepare for the grade 7 exams.  Each week they get a schedule of assignments for English, Science, and Social and Development Studies.  Part of the English work this week is to write a Personal Narrative.  Today I was working with Prudence on the editing of what she wrote.  The suggestion in the textbook was to write about a first in your life – first time you rode a bike, first time you went to school, etc.  She choose to write about coming to the Village of Hope. 

 

Her narrative shares that first her mother died.  Then her "stepmother" (aunt) died.  Then she came to the Village.  As we were working on this very special piece, I realized that tears were coming down her cheeks.  I could only hold her close and love her.  What trauma for one so young!  How I wish she would have been able to share more what was going on inside her at that moment that brought the tears.  I asked if she wanted to stop working on the narrative, but she wanted to finish.  I will always remember the first day that she and Paul and Precious (her cousins) came to school.  Rather than being sad, they were beaming as the children were singing songs at morning meeting. 

 

Finally, this has been a special week for the children.  On Monday, during lunch break, I heard the children screaming.  I didn't know if someone was hurt or if there was a snake around like had been the day before.  I went outside to a chorus of children yelling, "Teacher Bosman!, Teacher Bosman!"   Their beloved teacher had come for a visit.  Teacher Bosman moved to Livingstone in October with her husband.  But they were in the area and the children were thrilled to see her.  And Teacher Bosman was thrilled to see the children again.  As with so many people who visit, these children have a special place in her heart.

 

Then today, Teacher Precious who now works at Fringilla had a day off and came to visit.  Again the children ran to give her a big hug.  What a blessing for the children to have these two people ,who have been important in their lives and who come out of love, to see them.